Looking For a Place to Start
by futurerustfuture-dust
Summary: "Clint's eyes widened when he looked at the tilt-a-whirl, the carousel, and the Ferris wheel as he stepped out of the cab, Nat just behind him. She grinned as his face lit up for the first time in what felt like years. " Nat and Clint have one day off, and Nat knows exactly how they're going to spend it (whether or not Clint likes it.) Part four of Natasha, the Conqueror.


She'd been asking for the day off for weeks, bringing it up every few days to Fury after she'd heard the good news, never letting it rest until he'd finally confirmed that she'd get the time off she asked, his expression warning her that if he heard about it one more time he'd, well, Nat didn't like to think about that. Clint didn't know, and though her plans had practically eaten her alive out of excitement she wanted to keep it that way for as long as she could, preferring to surprise him. For a spy, she was terrible at keeping good news to herself.

She knocked on the door just loud enough to wake up the two men sleeping inside the morning of, smiling as she heard Clint cursing. It was early, around seven in the morning, but Nat wasn't one to waste a day off by sleeping in, and as far as she was concerned Clint wasn't about to get that luxury either. Not that he'd bother to answer the door himself, instead kicking his boyfriend out to confront the red head. Clint was lucky enough that Phil let him get away with it. Lesser crimes were meted out with hours of paperwork as punishment.

"Agent Romanov, what can I do for you?" Even though she'd seen him in less it was always difficult to see the man in front of her as Phil Coulson in a pair of boxers and SHIELD blue socks standing in the door frame of Barton's room. Not that it made him any less intimidating; he could still kick her ass six ways from Sunday if she crossed him. Not that he would, she hoped. She wasn't exactly used to what protocol followed waking the Agent Coulson from his beauty rest. If she'd have been a lesser agent there was a chance she wouldn't live to tell the tale.

"Could you tell Clint to stop being so lazy?" Nat asked, the beginnings of a nervous smile twisting her lips up. "He and I both have the day off and we've got plans." Well, she had plans that she was going to drag him along for whether or not he liked it. And he would.

"I've got things I want to do, too!" Clint called from somewhere in the room, voice muffled likely by the blankets he liked to nest in. "And they all start with a 'Ph' and end with an 'Il Coulson.' Get in line."

If there was ever one thing that Nat wished she could emulate it would be Phil's self control; the man's face hardly shifted, though Nat was sure it had something to do with the fact that there were far worse things that Clint could (and had) said so early in the morning. As it was the handler let out a quiet, resigned sigh, eyes asking Nat if that was really how she was going to start his morning. She swallowed hard. It wasn't her fault; she'd much rather have dragged Clint from the ear until he begged for mercy instead of having to go through Phil.

"Do I need to sign you both up for a refresher course on how to solve things in person?"

"Hey, send him to the door next time." Nat offered with a shrug thought Clint swore from within the room, the sound of rustling sheets covering up his protests. "If you want I'll go in there right now and tell him myself?"

Clint let out a cry of "No no no!" from within and Phil's smile grew by the smallest measure. "Oh no, that won't be necessary. I'm not quite finished with him yet."

And if there was one thing Nat knew, it was not to get between Phil and his Clint. The two agreed to have the archer up and ready by nine, giving him two luxurious hours before being traded between his handler and his friend. The Hawk had made the mistake of asking whether or not he got a say, which had been shot down at the same time by those deciding his day. He kept his mouth shut after that. The door closed in front of Nat once they'd finished up, and the red head couldn't help but laugh as she heard her fellow agent being berated for being lazy, though what came next she could've done without hearing. There were just some kinks of Clint's she didn't need to know about.

For all their banter, Natasha owed Clint the most, more than she could ever hope to pay back even though she'd tried her hardest, but on days like this she liked to think she could at least level the playing field a little bit. After all if it hadn't been for Barton (who would to deny that she owed him anything until he was blue in the face; it made him feel dirty he said) Nat would be six feet in the ground if she was lucky, or sent back to the Red Room if she wasn't. The thought was still enough to send shivers up her spine, teeth clamping down on her tongue to keep the bile down. The kitchen was nearest and she threw herself into making breakfast, trying to get her mind on a different track. Just about anything would make for a better train of thought.

The other two agents joined her in the kitchen, as promised, two hours later, Clint sporting a few new hickeys that trailed down past his collar and Coulson's lips turned upward in what might've been the first goofy smile Nat had ever seen. It was a wonder, like a double rainbow or a solar eclipse while a comet was soaring across the sky. Nat just smiled, keeping her mouth shut as they moved around, grabbing coffee and cereal and each other once or twice before Clint wished Phil a good day with a kiss goodbye.

"So, what's the plan? Why'd you get me up so early?" Clint asked through a mouthful of Lucky Charm marshmallows, leaving the actual cereal in the bowl to get soggy. She'd heard him suggest to Tony the idea of a marshmallow-based cereal, all the sugar none of the healthy crap as he liked to put it. It'd never kicked off as the archer had hoped, so he made do with throwing out whatever he hadn't eaten, or else pawning it off to whoever raised the biggest complaint about him wasting food (Steve was getting really sick of Lucky Charms sans the charms and had since stopped eating breakfast with Clint.) "I mean, it's my day off, too. Maybe I wanted to sleep in."

"No time," Nat said with a grin as sickly sweet as his breakfast. Clint's eyes widened and there was a touch of fear behind the curiosity. Nat couldn't deny that she was glad to see it. "Get dressed once you're done with your breakfast? I've got big plans."

"But I don't want-."

"I didn't ask you what you wanted." She teased him as she stood to pour herself another cup of coffee. "C'mon Clint. The last time you decided what we did on our day off we spent the entire day playing Movie Madness Mad Libs via com."

"And that was a great day!" His face split into a grin.

Nat didn't grace that with a response.

By the time her unwilling partner was dressed and ready to go she'd already gotten through three chapters further in her book, finished the final bit of paperwork from her last mission, and was about to contemplate calling Coulson for tips on making Clint move faster when he finally made his way back to her, dressed in one of Phil's favorite shirts and a pair of worn jeans. Perfect. "Oh, wipe the pout off your face. We're going to have fun. Promise." Nat told him, squeezing his shoulder as she grinned and led them out to where she'd called a cab. Tony might have been a fan of driving in a flashy car, but on their day off the last thing Nat wanted was the pair of them being recognized. There weren't many productive spies that had recognizable faces.

"Your idea of fun and mine rarely seem to coincide," Clint reminded her. "Remember Sri Lanka?"

"You can't hold that against me."

"The hell I can't!"

* * *

They bickered for the whole drive, the cabbie turning the music in the cab up before stopping outside an abandoned parking lot near the outskirts of the city. At least it had been abandoned. Far away from the construction and redevelopment of the inner city a carnival had been put up with the proceeds funding those who had been displaced by the destruction and wreckage Loki and his stupid army had caused. The carnival had been set up by an anonymous donor who Nat had harassed into getting it together for the past week. She certainly was good at it, as Stark had been kind enough to remind her after he'd agreed.

Clint's eyes widened when he looked at the tilt-a-whirl, the carousel, and the Ferris wheel as he stepped out of the cab, Nat just behind him. She grinned as his face lit up for the first time in what felt like years. He'd told her that, despite having worked in a circus for many years, he still had a fondness for the bright colors, loud music, and the candy he'd stolen many a time while growing up, all of which could be easily found just past the gates.

"Tash, are you fucking serious?" Clint asked as he grinned over at her, practically jumping out of his skin as he bounced on the balls of his feet. Apparently bad top-forties music and the bells and whistles of carnie games were enough to get him as excited as a kid on Christmas, and Nat couldn't have been happier.

"Heard it was in town and, while it's no circus, thought it could be fun." She grinned. "Plus: all the cotton candy you can eat."

His eyes glazed over and he groaned in happiness. "I think I love you. Don't tell Phil, but seriously, you are amazing."

She rolled her eyes, though the grin spread so far that her cheeks hurt as he took him by the hand and led him inside. The ticket attendant recognized her face, Tony having promised her all the free rides and food they could get, and the two passed without so much as a second glance, hands filled with as many tickets as they asked for. She could definitely get used to this treatment.

The pair spent the rest of the day in a haze of sugar coated treats, Clint introducing Nat to funnel cakes and deep fried candy bars (her favorite), caramel apples and fresh-spun cotton candy so sweet it made her teeth hurt. They ordered fresh lemonade from the stands and sipped it as they rode the Ferris wheel and looked out over the busy city, grinning as they saw Tony fly back towards the tower, the sun reflecting off of his candy-apple red suit. Hell, they even saw a couple of kids dressed up as him, though Clint couldn't make sense of it.

"I mean, the suit's cool and all, I guess. But why dress up like an arrogant prick?" He mused, licking his fingers of all the salt and butter left behind from his third bag of popcorn.

Nat shrugged. "He's not all that bad. I mean, he's helped out a lot with the city."

Clint agreed and the day went on. Before too long they were laden not only with treats but an enormous teddy bear with a red, white, and blue cape that Clint had christened Steve. His present to Phil, he assured her, while Nat just laughed and hugged her own Black-Widow inspired teddy bear. These guys were really going crazy with the whole Avengers thing; it was a marketing dream, from what Fury had explained to her. Not that she minded, but it was getting weird to see men with a voluptuous cartoon of her tattooed on their arms like some pin-up girl, and she couldn't imagine many of the guys had it any better.

There was one last game they had to hit before they left for the day, already having spent the entire morning and afternoon going on rides, people watching, and enjoying the heated final hurrah of the summer. Clint laughed as the man working the booth challenged him to a shooting competition, handing him a thick, plastic rifle and betting that he couldn't make all of the shots.

"Really? What do you think, Tash?" he asked, turning back at Nat, a convincing look of doubt playing across his face. She gave him her best rendition of an encouraging smile, laying her hand on his shoulder and squeezing.

"I think you can do it," she said, biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

"You his girlfriend?" the Carnie asked, his grin lecherous at best as he took Clint's money for a round, apparently not knowing that they were friends of the man who'd set everything up. Not that it mattered.

"No, just his good friend." She said, voice a little more tart than strictly necessary. Not that it deterred him any, pressing Clint to bet a date with Nat if he couldn't hit all seven targets. Clint turned to his partner, who shrugged. As if she had anything to be worried with. The two men sealed the deal with a handshake, and Clint lined up to take the shots.

It was over in a little under a minute, the rifle responding so well to Clint's touch it might as well have been made for him. He took out the first two shots with one round so that by the time all seven targets were down, each and every one of them a bullseye, and he was able to aim the last one at the Carnie's crotch. The pair of agents grinned as the man doubled over, swearing profusely. Nat grabbed what must have been a hawk-eye inspired stuffed animal, though the costume was garish and bright purple and a huge 'H' on its forehead, and with a wink the two were off towards the exit, Clint's arm wrapped around Nat's shoulders.

"Hey Tash? Thanks." He caught her eye and the smile he gave her nearly broke her heart with its sincerity. She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, leaning into his embrace and feeling her entire body relax as he murmured: "This was an amazing day off."

"Better than mad libs?"

"Yeah, I guess."

* * *

A/N: I don't own any of these characters. Title of this fic comes from "Yellow Light" by Of Mice and Men. Thanks for reading!


End file.
